Racing the Clock
by Nerdy J Fics
Summary: Written for the Houses Competition. Dumbledore is allowing days to pass lazily, but someone else is desperately trying to outrun time...


**Title: Racing the Clock**

 **House: Gryffindor**

 **Category: Short story**

 **Prompt: Running out of time**

 **Word count: 916**

 **Disclaimer: Don't own this one either.**

* * *

Draco's breath came out short and fast.

 _I can't do this._

 _I'm running out of time._

 _He's going to kill us all._

 _No, no, no._

 _Not Mother._

 _I won't let him kill Mother._

Thoughts blurred and cut themselves up into confusing pieces and shapes.

 _I have to. I_ _ **have**_ _to._

 _I have to kill him soon._

 _The cabinet has to work._

 _If it doesn't..._

 _No._

* * *

The older man sighed, rubbing his mangled hand absentmindedly. He knew he was running out of time. Not that he minded, particularly, but he did wish he could be here to help Harry. The poor lad was destined to go through so much...

 _Ah, but another boy is going through plenty himself..._

 _If only the child would ask me for help. If only he would allow Severus to assist him..._

 _He's going to get himself in far deeper trouble on his own than he would if he just swallowed his pride..._

* * *

"I'm fine. I'm fine. I can do this," he whispered, clutching his head in his hands tightly. Blonde hair was sticking out oddly between his bony fingers, but appearances were the least of the young Malfoy's concerns at this point in time.

Looking up at the cabinet, he groaned, a strangled noise escaping his mouth.

 _I'm running out of time..._

He ran a rough hand over his face, trying desperately to control the panic bubbling up once more. Finally, he broke, and fell to the ground, pounding the floor of the Room of Requirement with his fist.

"I can't."

"I _can't._ "

 _You're hyperventilating. Calm down._

Even knowing he was having a panic attack, the boy was no longer in control of his own body. Draco clutched his arms around his torso, body heaving in a desperate bid for air. Rocking back and forth, hot tears raced down his cheeks as he gasped.

 _He's gonna kill me._

 _He's gonna kill Mother._

* * *

Albus winced at the pain crawling through his disfigured appendage. It was getting worse all the time, and the potion wouldn't hold it at bay much longer.

"Severus, how is Draco coming along?" he questioned, pulling his sleeve down once more.

The former Potions Master shook his head, looking away in disgust.

"He is far too stubborn for his own good. He is going to fail."

Dumbledore nodded thoughtfully.

"Interesting... Are you sure he truly _wants_ to kill me?"

Snape rolled his eyes briefly at the remark.

"I doubt that a teenager _wants_ to commit _murder_ but if you are wondering if he is _trying_ to kill you, then yes."

"He doesn't seem to be putting much effort into it."

"That boy," Severus seethed, "Would do _anything_ to protect his mother. _Anything._ He is having panic attacks left and right from the stress, and I wouldn't be surprised if he had a complete mental breakdown soon enough."

* * *

 _No... Have to kill him. I_ _ **have**_ _to._

 _Idiot! You're going to die, and you sit here crying like a child?_

He stumbled to his feet, swiping away the tears as he struggled to find breath. Draco approached the cabinet once more.

* * *

"Do you have any idea how smart that boy is? I know you don't. He is nearly top of his class. Brightest boy I've ever met. He will find a way."

"Why can't I do this?" He screamed, sparks flying haphazardly from his wand.

"Why..." He whispered, the word scratching his throat, burning his tongue, and stinging his ears.

* * *

"He is killing himself. He doesn't sleep. He rarely eats."

* * *

He tinkered with the cabinet, cautiously waving his wand over one portion, undecided on what spell to use.

There was a hollow pit in his stomach, and Draco vaguely realized how he must be starving. His stomach had ceased growling a day or so back...

"You're no good to anyone if you die of starvation," he muttered, tucking away his wand for the time being.

* * *

"I've seen him walking around school, eyes vacant, not paying attention to his surroundings... It's a sad sight to see a boy who was so _alive_ get broken down to nothing. But you don't seem to care about his health or well being."

* * *

Draco held a block of cheese in one hand, and a loaf of bread in the other, still staring at the cabinet.

 _I'm not hungry... That's not good. If I'm not hungry after going so long without food, then I'm either sick or I am so hungry I can't even feel it._

 _Either way, I need to eat._

Reluctantly, he tore a chunk of bread off and chewed on it.

 _Mind over matter. I can do this, as long as I stay in a good headspace._

* * *

"Protect that boy," he growled, dull eyes flashing with anger. "I don't expect you to help Lucius, but at least help Narcissa and Draco."

"Help will always be given at Hogwarts to those who..."

"He's a Slytherin," Severus interrupted coldly, turning away. "Slytherins don't go running and begging for help." He seemed to come to the realization as he said it.

* * *

 _Is it... Did I..._

 _No..._

 _I've..._

 _I've done it?_

* * *

"They stand alone as long as possible. And yet, they come out on top. No one sees it, as they don't get their deserved credit, their moment in the limelight, as certain _other_ houses do..."

Severus clenched his jaw, closing his eyes briefly.

"But sometimes the most powerful..."

* * *

A wide, dizzy grin swept across Draco's face, relief coating every part of him.

 _I_ _ **did**_ _it..._

* * *

"Prefer the shadows."


End file.
